


Of Bumble and Bees

by yangbangbang



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25433785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yangbangbang/pseuds/yangbangbang
Summary: Yang Xiao Long thinks her life ended after high school.She doesn’t expect college to change that, but her nosey little sister, Ruby, is determined to make Yang’s first year unforgettable.Her plan starts by downloading a dating app.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Kudos: 14





	Of Bumble and Bees

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy!
> 
> The start of my first RWBY fanfic, yay! I don't want to spoil much (I love surprises), but this is a college AU that will eventually include more of the characters and pairings. I have a head start on the chapters, so I plan to update weekly :,D
> 
> Lots of love to the friends who have encouraged me to share this story<3 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Will you do it for _me_?” 

That was it. That was the question Ruby had asked to convince me into downloading the stupid app that sent my life into complete oblivion. 

Well, further oblivion. 

Light danced brightly in her eyes when I reluctantly gave in, ceasing fire on the argument we’d had now for days. The squeals she generated after I tossed her the phone might have made me happy a few months back, but today I wasn’t having it.

“No one’s gonna respond to it, anyway!” I knew the remark had no chance of convincing her, but it was my last hope before waving my white flag of surrender. 

There was something absolutely lethal about my little sister then. She launched from where she had been draped over her pillows at one end of her bed and straight into me where I sat cross-legged on the other. Though hidden by her dark bangs, her eyebrows shot down as if to inform me that I’d irrevocably offended her. Then her hands gripped either side of my shoulders and shook me like she did her dog Zwei when she scolded him. 

“Yang Xiao Long!” 

_Yep, Ruby, that’s my name._

“You are going to have so many dates because of this you have no idea!” 

_Nope, Ruby, that’s a lie._

“Whatever you say, sis.” 

Then she retreated to her pillows, a long howl leaving her as she did. She bounced from knee to knee as she worked manically over my phone, giggles erupting from deep within her chest.

I didn’t want that app; I didn’t want anything in particular, other than to stay here in my sister’s room. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about how much I was going to miss it. 

Beacon University was my top choice. I knew it’d be stupid for me to decline my acceptance, and honestly, I wasn’t even sure our old man would let me if I tried. ‘A small town girl’s chance in the big city,’ he’d said—or something like that. Still, shipping out was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I’d rather fall over and join Ruby on her squishy pillows. 

“Okay, it’s installed. Time to set your profile up!” I glanced at my phone in Ruby’s hands and saw that yes, it had installed. She frantically scrolled through the terms of use and blah blah blah while I admired the perfect red polish that painted her nails. I looked to my own—chipped, maybe dirt underneath? 

_I am a lost cause Ruby_ ; I caught the words before they escaped my mouth and could reignite the war between us. She wasn’t in my brain, though. I could think the truth all I wanted. _You’re not getting me any dates._

“Time for a name! Hmmm… Something spunky, but not cliche.” 

“Uh, Ruby? I already have a name?” 

“You can’t use your real name!” Her hands were back on my shoulders, I obviously should have known this. “What if there are creeps on here?!” 

“You signed me up for something with creeps?” 

“No! Well... yes? It doesn’t matter, this is going to be great!” She picked back up the phone from where it’d been flung across the bed and peeked over its screen at me. Ugh. I couldn’t argue with that face. “So what do you want your name to be…?” She barely squeaked. 

“I don’t know, my name is Yang.” 

“I know I know I know… but on Bumble you can name yourself anything!” 

“Bumble?” 

“That’s the app’s name.”

_Like a bee?_

Apparently my thought was verbalized, because Ruby launched her arms upwards and began screeching. “That’s it!”

“That’s what?” 

She had lost it completely, that much was certain. Hunched over the phone, she squealed like a giddy schoolgirl gossiping about boys. Which, I guess she still was. Why did she have to be born younger than me? Life would be so much easier if she could come to Beacon. A satisfied, sadistic laugh escaped her, and I could only assume she had chosen my name. 

“BeezKneez69?” 

“It’s great, right?!” It wasn’t. 

“Why don’t you just make your own dating profile?” It wasn’t a legitimate question. She was still in high school, plus her robust energy attracted enough admirers amongst her classmates already.

“Because it’s more fun when we do things together,” her smile was sincere and I felt it stab at my chest. How was I willingly leaving her again? Scratch that, it wasn’t willingly, they’d have to drag me out of this room. 

Then the phone was in my face, way too close for comfort, and I let out something of a scream and sneeze hybrid by the invasion. A screeze. The product of said screeze was horrific: one of my eyes was squinted while my mouth was fully agape. 

“Retake that,” I ordered. 

“But it’s beautiful,” she chimed the words with enough sweetness that I couldn’t disagree. “Now, my lovely sister, the app would like to know who you are looking for?” 

“Who I’m… what?” 

“You know! Boys or girls?! D’s or V’s?! Everyone in between?!” 

“Ruby!” It wasn’t like I didn’t know the answer. Well, I guess it was a little confusing now and then. But that conversation wasn’t one we’d had yet, and it irked me that some stupid app felt entitled to my answer.

“Girls?” Super-mom saved the day as she creaked open the door. She didn’t know she was interrupting, but I silently thanked her for the rescue.

Ruby’s mom was heaven sent, and I caught myself wishing that she was my mom, too, more times than I’d admit to any of my family. She was nearly identical to Ruby; her dark hair fell short around her face and framed those same light eyes. I peeked at my phone still in Ruby’s hands and inspected the picture taken of my screeze. My own hair had turned into a mane at some point over the last few months; I’d made it my personal mission since graduating to stop brushing it, and nobody could make me start again. Comparing the image with the two others in the room, I reminded myself for the ga-zillionth time in my eighteen years of life: _Nope_ , _I am definitely not hers._

I didn’t even see Ruby stand. She had flown beside Summer in an instant. _Definitely identical_ , I reaffirmed when they stood side by side. She didn’t wait for her mom to hand over the plate to attack the cookies—if they were chocolate-chip, then she just might be elated enough to forget all about her ridiculous dating app plan. 

The cookies were, but she wasn’t.

“Fine, Yang, fine,” she started again with her cheeks as puffed as a chipmunk’s and bits of chewed cookie falling from her mouth. “I’ll just set the app to look for everyone. Change it later if you want.” 

Summer left the room as effortlessly as she’d come, and I already missed her presence. “Um, thanks.” 

“Now, your bio!” She returned her attention to the phone as she moved back to her bed and worked furiously away. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me any questions?” I asked when she didn’t. 

“My dearest sister, I know more than enough about you to handle this part.” A smirk dressed her lips as she continued typing. Once satisfied, she passed me the screen, and I read the words she had written to describe me. 

_I’m Yang. Let’s fight._

“Ruby,” was it a groan or a question? Honestly, I wasn’t sure. 

“I am not accepting critiques! This is a work of artistic genius!” 

I didn’t have the slightest inkling if she was right. Was that what people liked on dating apps? 

“Finally,” she proclaimed and squeezed the phone to her chest, apparently satisfied by her efforts. “Time to swipe!” 

Her fingers were frantic again, leaving small dots of red overwhelming my eyes as her polished nails soared over the glass screen. She shared the faces of potential suitors a few times but primarily dedicated herself to the task. Until, that is, she froze completely. 

“Wow,” the word was a gasp as it left her lips. “She’s so pretty.” I shifted to see who Ruby was referring to, but she hid the phone screen against her chest. “I’m liking her whether you want to or not!” When she did, another gasp—loud and euphoric—escaped her. “She _already_ liked you!”

“What? We’ve only had the profile for a few minutes?” 

“Yang I _told_ you! You’re gonna have so many dates!” 

I wasn’t sure if I believed her or not, but I definitely felt something lift in my chest. It’d been a long time since I’d felt like this. Was I… excited?

Ruby was back to scrambling over my phone, squealing and bouncing as she did. Then she turned to me, her eyes wide, and shook my shoulders all over again. What had I done this time?

“Tomorrow!” She cried and could have fooled me that her tears were real. “You’re meeting her tomorrow!” 

“What? Ruby, I can’t meet her tomorrow. I’m moving!” 

“I know! She’s a student at Beacon, too! It’s perfect!” 

“Can I at least see who she is?”

“No! Leave it to me, it’ll be a surprise!” 

What had I gotten myself into? 

That’s what I thought when I opened the door to the garage and saw Dad kneeling over his motorcycle. There were two, he’d gotten us each one as my high school graduation gift. He was determined to get them fixed up before I left for college.

“Ouch! Dammit!” Obviously that wasn’t going to happen.

The expression he wore when he turned signaled that I was laughing. Oops. He pulled the safety goggles back from where they covered his eyes and onto the bandana tied around his head. He was about as filthy as he’d been this whole summer; the grease on his arms and face became his version of a bad sun tan.

“Stop making fun of your old man.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

“You were thinking it,” he was right about that. 

I tip-toed over scattered tools as I stepped into his work area. Dad’s garden was his happy place, but the garage was the opposite. I pushed aside countless paper instructions and bits of trash littered onto his workbench before I patted his head as I sat.

“I’m almost finished,” he started again and returned his attention to the tool in his hand. “Just a few more tweaks and—” A puff of smoke surrounded him, and my laughter muted his coughs. 

“Dad! Seriously, it’s fine.” His tearing eyes were hints that it wasn’t fine, but I was unsure if that was because of the sparking motorcycle or from my words. I tried to take them back to be sure it wasn’t the latter. “Really, don’t worry! You just need a few more months.”

“But you’re leaving for Beacon tomorrow,” my attempt had failed, and I was sure he was about to sob. “I wanted you to have something to remember us by.” 

“Dad, really? Summer’s cooking? I could never forget that.” 

He pulled his arms around his knees and looked back at me then. I had to suppress my urge to laugh at the grease tan left by his goggles. “You promise you’ll visit?” 

“You act like it’s out of state or something.” It was true, Beacon was only an hour trip by bus. Yes, I had checked. “Of course I’ll visit, and you should visit me. Ruby’s already planning to in a few weeks, so you’ll have to hurry before she fills up my schedule.” 

Tears were definitely flowing. He reached for a piece of cloth—covered in grease—to wipe them and then blew his nose. I hadn’t realized he was so distraught by me leaving. If ever there was a chance for me to escape the looming threat of moving away to college, this was it. The words were almost out of my mouth. I nearly stopped the train before it had the chance to run over me, but his voice started again. 

“Have you talked to your mom?”

I was back then, tied against the tracks with its engine hurling forward. 

“No,” I didn’t mean to growl, especially when he was already crying, but it was his fault for thinking he could ask me something like that. “And she hasn’t spoken to me, so let’s drop it.”

I ignored when he called after me as I slammed the garage’s door. I ignored when Summer peeked in to tell me that dinner was ready. I ignored when Ruby asked me to join her for ice cream. I ignored everything and everyone until I was completely alone at Beacon. 

I groaned into my new pillow on my new bed in my shiny new dorm. It was not shiny, even if that’s what Ruby had tried to convince me—only new. Only unfamiliar in every possible way that there was. It wasn’t like my room at Dad and Summer’s was much different. I tried reminding myself that I’d only moved there a few months ago, hoping that somehow the fact that I’d be living here longer would console me. It had the opposite effect. 

I dug my fingers into the stiff mattress as if it had offended me in some way, and I guess it had. I wanted my old bed with its soft blankets and army of stuffed animals. Really, I just wanted my old life, but that was something gone long before my college enrollment. I couldn’t mope forever, sure, but I would continue to until the empty bunk over mine became occupied.

My roommate hadn’t been present when we walked in that morning, nor had she returned during the day. But even if she wasn’t there, her stuff was. Empty suitcases were hidden in our closet, papers were filed neatly on her desk, and books were left resting on the edge of the top bunk. I had avoided making my own bed, and the implication of schoolwork by her textbooks was enough to unravel me. 

How had she moved in so fast, anyway? Orientation wasn’t until tomorrow, but her half of our living space was as if she’d been here for weeks. _An overachiever_ , I figured. There was no way I could handle a roommate like that, so I added her to the growing list of things that had offended me at Beacon. 

The buzz from the nightstand surprised me enough to jump from my pillow, but I chose to disregard it and flung my face back down instead. Then it buzzed again, and another time, and it continued to do so until the vibrating tipped the phone off the surface and it crashed against the floor. I would have liked to ignore the waltz it was dancing with the rug, but now I couldn’t escape the buzzing. It flew around like a swarm of bees inside my head. I groaned into my pillow once more, resigning myself to pick it up if only to hurl it from my shiny new window. I leaned my body off of the bedside and reached for the item. If I was going to grab it I at least didn’t want to have to get up. Finally my plight succeeded, and I was ready to head for the window, but the display on the screen caught me.

I had 97 new messages. 

They were all from Ruby. 

My pulse tripped the way it always did when she was in trouble, and I unlocked the screen to find her texts. I envied how quickly she had moved her fingers over the phone in that moment while mine hovered as if they were lost tourists on vacation. Finally I found her contact, graced with a dorky photo of her holding Zwei, and I read. 

_Yang._

_Yang._

_Yang._

That went on for about forty messages. 

_Are you there yet? What are you wearing? Will you send pictures? Yang?_

The questions were an assortment for the next thirty. 

_You didn’t forget, did you?_

What was I forgetting?

_YANG PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE THERE._

Where was I supposed to—wait. As if the phone heard what I was thinking, I received a notification from Bumble: _Where are you?_

Well, what a charming first impression I was making on my date: laying in complete darkness on a bed I hadn’t even pulled sheets onto. As if taken over by another worldly being I raged through my dorm; over unpacked boxes, through suitcases, and yanked out anything I could find that might be suitable to wear. Nothing really was. I didn’t go on ‘dates,’ so I didn’t have ‘date’ clothes. I wasn’t even sure what ‘date’ clothes were supposed to look like! I felt a pang at Ruby’s absence while I wished for her to appear and dress me up like one of her old Barbie dolls.

She did not materialize, however, and instead I found myself in an outfit that could only be described as the world’s most pitiful attempt at fashion. A plain white shirt—that was everybody’s go to, right? Even if my excuse held some truth, I cursed the garment when it fell short over my body. At some point it had decided to leave the land of comfy clothes to embark on the journey of becoming a crop top. I wasn’t pleased that it’d fulfilled its quest, but did it really matter if I still showed up to the date? I diverted my attention to my lower half and pulled on the first ‘minorly’ torn pair of sweats I could find. The rips on my knees weren’t great, but didn’t black at least match white? _See, Ruby? I know how to dress myself._ My taunts were silenced as I hunched to lace my yellow sneakers and realized the ends of the pants I’d chosen barely met the tops of my ankles. 

_When the hell did I grow out of all my clothes??_

I didn’t have time to think of the answer as I sprinted out of the room and down the halls. There weren’t many people around—luckily—just a few small groups of students with boxes filing in and out of their new dorms. Her face was hidden by one of those boxes when my body smacked into hers. 

“Hey!” The voice was like a purr, but I was already late and couldn’t spare the time to see who it belonged to.

“Sorry!” I called instead as I ran from the common room and onto the bustling campus of Beacon University. I promised myself that I’d make it up to her later. If I ever met her, at least. 

The campus wasn’t large, but it was spread out significantly. I tried to map where I was to the town center Ruby had chosen for the date. I sped away from the Grimm Dorms—yes, Grimm like the fairy tales. One of the school’s quirks was dedicating parts of its campus to figures who had influenced their trade. Apparently classic folklore applied to the liberal arts school and, thus, the dormitories for its students.

Liberal arts: was that what old me had chosen to study? As I failed to answer the question, I asked myself another and wondered what liberal arts even was. Why did I choose a major in something I knew nothing about? 

It didn’t take many wrong turns to get myself completely lost. I hadn’t sprinted far before trapping myself in the labyrinth that was Beacon’s layout. I still hadn’t responded to her, I didn’t want her to think I’d forgotten, but—pushing my pride aside—I dialed my phone and called Ruby. 

“Yang!” There was her howl again. “Where are you? How is your date? Is she nice?” 

I deflected her onslaught of questions and simply replied, “hi.” 

“You forgot didn’t you.” That one wasn’t a question. She was right, she did know her sister very well, but I couldn’t let her think that I’d forgotten such a simple thing after she’d spent so long badgering me to agree to it. 

“No,” I lied. “I’m just lost. Can you send me the address?” 

The reprimands I received from my cell prompted me to remove the phone from my face, but eventually she agreed. I killed the line when she asked what I was wearing then followed my GPS through the university’s maze, wishing to myself I had just done that at the start.

_Your stubbornness will get the best of you, Yang_ , I remembered Dad laughing, but now I realized it wasn’t a joke. 

A dim haze above the town center signalled that day was surrendering to night. It was the definition of a college town, or at least what I thought a college town was supposed to be. That was apparent as I walked into the complex made almost entirely of restaurants where dozens of people my age squealed over their food. I checked my GPS for the place’s name—Coco’s tea—and found that I’d arrived.

Rather, I’d arrived at the line. 

It stretched to the opposite side of the outdoor dining area, then it wrapped around a spiral fountain where it met me at its end. There were dozens of people waiting to make their way into the shop, lights strung onto the beams hanging over their heads. They brightened as the sky continued to turn dark, and I figured this environment would help me enjoy the wait. Still, whoever Coco was, she must have made incredible drinks to have so many patrons.

My lost tourists returned to my phone as I tried to navigate the dating app. She had sent me another message.

_If you’re not here in two minutes I’m leaving._

It was sent forty-three ago. 

I pitied myself for disappointing Ruby and swore to make amends with this girl. I wrote some words that I hoped formed a semi decent apology (after ignoring my blatant typos) then figured I might as well peek at the photo of my date I’d unintentionally stood up. 

But then I saw her. 

She walked— _glided_ —over the pavement with a presence that was subtle, yet demanded that every other pair of eyes fall onto her.

Mine definitely had. 

I watched each stride she made, long and unrushed, until she joined Coco’s line directly behind me. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her, and she had to know that. How couldn’t she when I was staring right her way? 

The best distraction from her body was obviously my feet, but then there were hers right across from them. She wore strappy shoes with a slight pump, and after investigating, my gaze followed her long legs up to the tight black bottom of her dress. Was she dressed for a nightclub? Did college students go to nightclubs?

Others had noticed, too. There was a blonde whose expression cued me into his similar realization, his gaping mouth made him look like some kind of a monkey. I really hoped my own face didn’t look like that, but I also couldn’t force myself to care. 

“What are you staring at?” The question was there, but her attention was not. She tilted her chin to the lights above us and acted as if she hadn’t acknowledged me at all. Forget abusing my hair, it was now my personal mission to get this girl to look back at me. I wanted— _needed_ —to see her face. 

“Isn’t it obvious,” I was proud that I got it out, even if the words vocalized more breathlessly than I’d hoped. I wondered if they were a figment of my imagination, but then she turned her face away from the lights. 

Mission accomplished. 

Her dark bangs framed her features so perfectly that those bees were back to flying around my head, buzzing loudly over my every thought. It was only yesterday that I had stumbled over the answer when Bumble demanded to know who I was looking for, yet as I gazed at her face I wanted to scream how I felt to the stupid app and to Ruby but _especially_ to her. 

“You’re holding up the line.” 

I was so lost in her that I hadn’t noticed when she was joined by someone else. His attire was equally lavish, really; were they going to a club? And if they were, did it require his shades to get inside? It was dark out now, after all. I figured I didn't care whether it did or not when he waved one hand dismissively in my direction as the other grazed her side. 

I’d never felt myself as repulsed by, yet as envious of, someone before.

She looked at me then with amber eyes and, when I was sure there was a glint of recognition there, I drowned in them. Not only was she staring at me, but she was fuming. Fuming. Why was she fuming? Did it even matter if I was getting something out of her? Was it better than her hiding her face and avoiding my eyes? 

As if it’d have all the answers I unlocked my phone and opened the image of my abandoned date. I was certain it would belong to her, this fuming girl in front of me, and—more than that—I wanted it to. I wanted her to have noticed me on that app even a fraction of how I was drawn to her now. 

There was no other explanation… right?

My thoughts were interrupted when her companion spoke again. “Wait, you’re the girl from back at the dorms!” 

Things could never be that easy. 


End file.
